With Eyes Closed
by LynstHolin
Summary: DRARRY  Harry Potter is married to Ginny, and Draco Malfoy is in a relationship with one of the members of the Weird Sisters, but they can't forget each other.


Warnings: suggestiveness, language

...

Firelight played on Draco's bare torso as he lounged on an Astrakhan rug in tiny black underpants, reading a scandalous tell-all book about famous Quidditch players. There was an eruption of green in the fireplace, and an all-too-familiar face was looking at him. "_Damn_. I should come through right now and nail you to that rug," Harry leered, his eyes roaming up and down.

Draco frowned and put his book over his crotch. "How did you get through? We're on the Restricted Floo Network."

"I'm an Auror, remember? I have connections. Why are you trying to cover up? I've seen it all before. I've touched it all before. I've put my mouth all over it before." Potter was slurring his words, obviously drunk.

"Keep your voice down," Draco hissed, "Nicodemus is sleeping in the next room."

"Come over here, then. Ginny and the kids are at the Burrow for the night, and I've been wanting you so much."

"Why are you doing this to me again?"

"Some nights I can't sleep at all for thinking about you.

"You made your choice, Harry. You married Ginny. We were over the day you proposed to her, and then _lied _to me about it."

Harry's eyes looked sad behind the spectacles. "It wasn't my choice, not really."

"You keep saying that, but it's not true. You could have chosen me."

"I would have lost most of my friends."

"You would have had _me_. You don't think I know how hard it can be? My parents haven't spoken to me in a year because of Nicodemus."

"You know you don't love him as much as you love me. He could never make you feel like I do."

Draco pressed his hands over his face. "I could be perfectly happy with him if you would just _leave me alone_. How can I forget you if you won't go away? Please go away. I can't take this."

"I love you, Draco."

Draco picked up his wand and aimed a jet of water at the fireplace. When he was finished, Harry was gone.

...

Draco swaggered through the crowd, splendid in purple bias-cut velvet robes that hugged his lean body. The full hem, embroidered with alchemical symbols, swirled around his pointy-toed boots. His hair was in a braid, and silver and black were smudged around his eyes. The security goon guarding the backstage entrance didn't even ask for a pass. It was obvious that Draco belonged there.

"Is he in the band?" a teenaged girl asked excitedly.

Her friend looked Draco over. "No, he's just a groupie."

Draco gave the second girl a withering glare. "I'm not a groupie, I'm a muse."

"_Weird Sisters, Weird Sisters_," chanted the crowd. Just as Draco made it to the wings of the stage, a blast of fireworks erupted, rockets shooting straight up overhead and exploding into red and white sparks. A melody was plucked out on a lute, then the stage lights snapped on, illuminating all nine members of the band. The crowd erupted.

"Dragon fire, my one desire, I want it all over me." The singer gyrated his hips as he sang, making the girls scream. In the middle of the song, a tall, shaggy man in leather robes stepped forward and played a skirling fiddle solo. All the while, he looked over at Draco, grinning. Draco smiled back, shimmying his shoulders to the music. The electric guitar chimed in, trading runs with the fiddle. After the last verse, the chorus went up half an octave, and a shimmering green dragon rose above the stage, spewing fire into the audience. Girls shrieked happily. As the song crashed to a halt, the singer shouted, "Helloooooooooooooooo, !"

"We're in bloody London," the bass player corrected.

"Helllooooooooooooooooooooooo, bloody Loooooooooondooooooooooon! Wow, it's been so long since we've been here in Edinburgh!"

When the first slow song was played, the wands came out. Nearly everyone in the audience held one overhead with the tip lit, waving in time to the music. The cello and the fiddle sang sweetly together, and the swirling pink and purple light show revealed hundreds of kissing couples.

The Sisters played for two and a half hours, including the encores. When it was over, the singer hollered, "Gooooooodniiiiiiight, Tooooooorontooooooooooooooooo!" As soon as they were in the wings, the singer and the bass player started a fist fight.

The fiddle player grabbed Draco in a bear hug and spun him around. "I think the fans like the new song I wrote for you," Nicodemus said. He pulled Draco even closer and let his hands slide down. "You look so good in those robes that I can't wait to take them off of you. You reserved that suite, right?"

...

Draco imagined the hands that touched him, the tongue that explored him, the body that covered his were someone else's. Green eyes, not brown. Clean-shaven, not bearded. Black hair and a scar and a way of loving Draco that drove him out of his mind.

"Open your eyes, Draco, open your eyes," a voice urged, but it was the wrong voice. When it was over, Nicodemus rolled onto his back with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling. "Whoever you think about, he must really be something."

"There's no one else."

"I'll believe that when you don't have to close your eyes any more." Nicodemus turned on his side, away from Draco, and Draco went to take a bath. He settled into lavender-scented water with a inflatable pillow, and was about to nod off when he heard a voice coming from the sitting room. He got up and wrapped a towel around his hips.

Harry stared up at him from the fireplace. "All wet and wearing white. Does that remind you of anything?"

"Don't." Draco's voice sounded tired.

"That picnic the Ministry held. You wore white robes, of all things. _White robes_. And then it rained buckets, and I could see right through them. I shoved you up against that tree, remember? You made that-that _sound_. I remember that sound all the time when I'm in bed with Ginny."

"Please, I don't want to hear it." Draco slumped onto the couch, as if his knees had given away.

"She's away with Albus and James again. Come over."

"This is a Muggle hotel. How are you doing this?"

"I told you, I have connections. Merlin, looking at you like that, I'm all ready to go right now."

"You're drunk again."

"Yeah, well, as you will remember, that doesn't have any adverse effects on what happens below my belt." Harry gave a lewd laugh.

Draco rested his head on one hand, looking at Harry slant-wise. "I'll sleep with you again if you leave her." Harry laughed some more. Draco picked a book up off the coffee table and hurled it at the fireplace. "I mean it, arsehole! I don't want someone else's leftovers. I don't want to smell her on you. I don't want to hear you say her name ever again. Leave the ginger bitch."

Harry stopped laughing abruptly. "I can't do that. I have children-" There was the sound of a woman's voice, and Harry cursed. "It's no one, hon-" Harry disappeared.

Draco stood up, tossing the towel to the floor, and headed to the mini bar. He gathered up all the tiny bottles of alcohol and sat back down on the couch. Screwing the top off a bottle of vodka, he tossed it back in one gulp, letting the empty bottle roll onto the floor. He teared up while sucking down the merlot, but by the time the last dead soldier was tossed behind the couch, his eyes were dry again. When he started to nod, he stretched out on the couch on his stomach, head on the armrest, and passed out.

A bit before dawn, Nicodemus came out of the bedroom fully dressed, a packed trunk floating behind him. Seeing Draco naked on the couch, he went back into the bedroom, re-emerging with a blanket that he spread on the sleeping man. He pulled two sheets of paper out of his jeans pocket, one blank, one written on, and set them on the coffee table. He knelt and scrawled something on the blank sheet, then got up and left the suite with his trunk.

A few hours later, Draco awoke, frowning and rubbing his head. Sitting up slowly he noticed the papers on the table. One said, 'I overheard your coversation. I hate saying good-bye, so I'll just leave you with this song. I'd like to say it's the last one I'll ever write about you, but I'd be lying. The suite is paid up through the rest of the weekend-enjoy. Nicodemus.'

Draco picked up the second sheet, the one with the lyrics written on it. The song's title was 'With Eyes Closed.' After reading it, he let the sheet drop and float to the floor. Pulling his blanket tightly around him, Draco sat unmoving, the morning sun coming through the blinds and marking him with stripes of light and dark.


End file.
